"Did you ever walk in your sleep?" asked the deacon, hastily.
"Lots of times," said Sam.
"It is rather strange you should go to the closet in your sleep," said Mrs. Hopkins, suspiciously. "I suppose, if you'd found it, you'd have eaten it in your sleep."
"Likely I should," said Sam. "I was dreamin' of the pie. You know how to make pie, Mrs. Hopkins; I never tasted so good before."
Mrs. Hopkins was not a soft woman, but she was proud of her cooking, and accessible to flattery on that subject. Sam could not have defended himself better.
"That may be," she said, "about your walking in your sleep; but once is enough. Hereafter I'll lock your door on the outside. I can't be waked up every night, nor I can't have my plates broken."
"S'pose the house should catch fire," suggested Sam, who didn't fancy being locked up in his room.
"If it does, I'll come and let you out. The house is safer when you're safe in bed."
"My wife is right, Samuel," said the deacon, recovering his dignity now that his fears were removed. "You must be locked in after to-night."
Sam did not reply. On the whole, he felt glad to get off so well, after alarming the house so seriously.